


After the morning sun

by LostMe



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, English is not my native language, Shy/awkward Lucifer, corrections are appreciated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMe/pseuds/LostMe
Summary: Lucifer didn't just come to the earthly plane. In order to come and be allowed to stay, he needed to be born in it as a human being. And as such, his mortal veil had not been capable of processing all that he was and so he forgot himself, let himself be a shy and awkward boy. It was no more the case.





	After the morning sun

**Author's Note:**

> So, I totally should be writing something else. This idea would not leave my mind, however. So here it is. I do hope you like it!
> 
> The title is inspired by Lukas Graham's '7 Years' but it very nearly was 'High School Poppycock' for obvious reasons.
> 
> Also, English is not my native language. Corrections and constructive criticism are very much appreciated.

Sam Lucifer Morningstar believed for the longest of times that his foreseen bleak future was set in stone, the obvious and unique result of lack of social charisma, physical awkwardness and a deep incapacity of understanding other's expectations and inherent inability to fulfill them.

For starters, he was too tall and too long-limbed and too thin and too self-conscious of it. He also had weird ticks and mannerisms that he just could not control. It was just that he was always so nervous, always with more energy than he could disperse, and so his limbs would either shake or convulse and he was so damn clumsy that sometimes things that were firmly in his grasp would just… fall. And break. And make a loud ruckus.  Which was a big problem, because sometimes he wanted to disappear, to not call attention to himself, but his height made that almost impossible. And then in trying to make himself smaller he would look even more awkward and become more and more clumsy. Then there was the fact that his brain was not much better. His mind was always a jumble of too much sensory information, too many words that had at the same time thousands of meanings and no meaning at all. He would never know how to properly talk to people and stutter when answering.

There were many things that he just knew weren’t supposed to be that way. The subject of today, it would seem, was his glasses. Yeah, he needed thick glasses to be able to see a palm before his nose. It wasn’t like he had chosen to be like that (or to have that curled obnoxious hair that was the topic of yesterday). Well, he may say topic but… Really, he had just been running the last ten minutes, trying to escape the beating the football team had announced once the school bell rang the end of the day.

For once in his life, he was actually glad he was so tall and slender, for he was light and long-limbed enough that he had put a good distance to the violent football players. He was distant enough, actually, that he had just let himself contemplate why the team had decided to take a piss over him – really, Lucifer was a nobody. Everybody ever made fun of his name and belittle him, saying how his family name and money would never buy him any worthiness – but that was all. Nobody had ever found it in themselves energy to spend actually hunting him before.

Maybe it was because of the new physical education teacher and current football trainer…

Well, Lucifer was honest enough with himself to admit that he probably was just trying to justify his newfound hate for Mr. Pierce. Lucifer was never a fan of physical education, and no teacher ever was a fan of him in physical education classes, but really… Marcus Pierce just seemed to delight in putting the boy in exhausting and humiliating endeavors to show to everybody what weakling Lucifer was…

And then the boy, in his distraction, tripped. He fell hard, nose first to the ground. He broke his glasses on impact. The team reached him.

To be quite honest, Lucifer blackened out after the first punch to his stomach, so when he awoke sometime later to Mr. Amenadiel’s voice asking him who gave him the black eye, he was forced to say he didn’t know. It could have been anyone on the team. It could have been himself, on the fall. When the literature teacher asked him if he was hurt and needed any help the answer was easier. He could not see a palm in front of his face, so yeah, he would really need help to get home.

_________________

Lucifer knew there was no escape of his pathetic existence – well, besides the obvious rote of escaping the world of the living altogether – but it didn’t mean he was happy with it. You see, he knew things should be different. Life was supposed to be better. His family had money and prestige and… And they loved him, kind of. He was supposed to have opportunities that the others could only dream of. He was supposed to feel safe at his own house. Yet he was… He was the ultimate outcast. It was like… He just felt like he didn’t fit with this world at all. He felt like he didn’t fit with his family, he felt like he didn’t fit within his own body.

And there were so many things he wanted but were so far from his grasp that he didn’t even know from where he should start wanting.

_________________

“So, I was thinking about finishing this report on the weekend. What do you say?” She asked him when she finally stopped laughing from the ridiculous joke he had made. And how he loved her laugh.

For all the lucky stars in the sky, sometimes Lucifer could just not believe Chloe Decker was his lab partner this semester in chemistry. For Chloe was the sun in which’s orbit the whole school navigated. She was beautiful, and gentle and popular and intelligent and rich and talented and just this step to being a movie star. She was everything anyone wanted to be, the person everybody wanted to have around. And for about an hour a week, she was something close to _his_. Not that he had any claim over her at all but… She would need to coordinate with him somehow in their table, and talk to him and pay attention to what he had to say and… It was good. It was good, even when all they did was pass beakers to each other, dictate readings or accord on which part each one should write and then whose turn it was to compile the final text.

She asked him questions. She heard the answers. It was more than he had with anyone. Now and then she would even trade small pleasantries with him, share a small joke.  And that it was with her… Oh, God… What would he do when the semester ended? It was pure luck (on his part, it was quite a misfortune in hers, if the world where to be believed) that they ended up together. The very first day of that school year, D.D. (or the D. Douche, how Lucifer privately referred to Daniel David Espinosa, Chloe’s boyfriend and current quarterback of the football team) had announced that Lucifer was a fire hazard in chemistry class, what with his thick glasses that would not fit on his face and safety goggles that sat awkwardly over then. And then somehow everybody was laughing and the teacher was putting him in the more isolated table and as always nobody wanted to be his partner (not even the new Chinese kid) and too soon all tables were occupied and he was the only one left without a partner. Well, that was not a problem _problem_ , since he was quite sure he could manage the experiments on his own so he could at least pass the subject when Chloe entered the room. She was late and she apologized but her schedule had been messed up and she couldn’t possibly attend the other period and could she take these classes instead? She understood that she had lost the opportunity to form a partnership and that there were no available tables but she was willing to just observe and replicate the experiments on her own later with the monitor and she really needed to pass that subject and…

Well, the teacher just pointed to Lucifer, said, ‘here is your partner Miss Decker’ and so that was that. That day, Chloe even thanked him for accepting her.

Like he could refuse. Like it wasn’t the bloody best thing that ever happened to him.

“Sam?” She called and he remembered she had asked a question. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what she had asked.

“What?”

“Is the weekend good? For us to finish the project?“

“Yeah, yeah, sure. What do you want me to do?” He asked.

“Oh… I actually don’t know. I’m a bit lost in all these Latin names… So I thought we could write this one together. What do you think?”

“Oh… Yeah, sure.”

“So… My bedroom or yours?”

He knew she was joking. He knew it was at the same time an honest, almost professional question and a tease. He still blushed furiously, babbled a response that he couldn’t for the life of him remember and fled the premises.

It probably didn’t matter which ‘bedroom’ they agreed upon, anyway, because later that day he was hunted by a furious D. Douche who had plans for the weekend with his girlfriend (and apparently had failed to ask her opinion about them) and figured out that it was all Lucifer’s fault anyway and oh boy, he would be too beaten up to see straight on the weekend and D. Douche would be damned with Lucifer still had his fingers to write the damn report.

Lucifer babbled, and implored for mercy and shouted it was not his fault, that he could cancel… That bloody hell, he could do the whole project by himself and…

But no, D. Douche replied. Chloe would be able to tell something was off and would not relax enough for him to go on with his plans and…

Later, much later, Lucifer would ask himself how beating him up was better than making him cancel in Chloe’s book. He will waste a few seconds on this thought now and then and always arrive at the same conclusion: it would not. D. Douche would probably resign to his missed opportunity of a good lay and negate any involvement with Lucifer’s misfortune, try again another day. Try with a different girl if Chloe was really that disgusted. If she even cared at all. At that moment, however, he didn’t think any of it, he just begged a bit more and then ran.

What happened then was, to this day, a blur on Lucifer’s mind. The only one in his long existence. He was faster than D. Douche, but the boy was strong and with much higher stamina. Lucifer lost his glasses along the way, then he lost himself, but D. Douche did not once lose sight of him.

He more heard than felt the impact, really. For a flimsy moment, the world was all white, and he was free. He was bigger than his body, bigger than the world. Then everything went black and he was no more.

_________________

He woke up some a bunch of weeks later. The world was silent like it had never been and yet he could hear the hiss of either circuit in the machine monitoring his vital in his room. He could hear the heartbeat of a bird near the window. He could hear the last breath of a dying man on the other side of the building. But his mind could finally process all of it and it was almost like it was silent.

He calmly opened his eyes and looked around the dark room. He could see it perfectly. He then sat down on his bed and looked down at his fragile human vessel. So breakable. So broken. He let the fire, the power that always was under his skin to flare and felt bones realign, wounds to close themselves.

Samael, Lucifer, the Morning Star, believed for the longest of times that his foreseen bleak future was set in stone. Then he saw how much bigger than it he was, rebelled, defied God Himself and conquered the free-will to decide his own destiny. He was banished to Hell for his troubles, let to die among the beasts. No matter, he conquered then with barely more than a snap of his fingers. For he was the Morning Star and bigger than Hell. He sat at a throne of fire and then he was.

But that was a long time ago. A very long time. He pondered for a moment about the pathetic existence he has led on the last sixteen years but let the thought wander away from him, untroubled.

He had anticipated the shortcomings of coming to this plane in a human body, of course. He knew that in being born, he would have a frail vessel that would be utterly incapable to even process the infinity of himself for many, many years. He knew that until he was developed enough, his brain and body would not be able to process even a tiny bit fraction of his power and he might even be considered disabled in the eyes of the humans. What he did not know, never suspect, was how much he would be affected by it. In his arrogance, he never thought he would be any less than any of these mortals, no matter how inappropriate his vessel turned out. Well, it would look like he was wrong.

He would be ashamed of himself if he found any use for such things. He could be embarrassed for running. He could be distressed about taking abuse after abuse and crying over them when alone in his room. He could be mortified about begging mercy from a teen when he hadn’t begged even God. But he would not. He did spend a second or two grieving the existence of a boy who lived an unfulfilling life. He did mourn Sam Lucifer Morningstar, whose happiest moment in life had been thinking he would hang out with a girl on the weekend to write up a report, and had that moment taken away from him, in the end. He mourned the boy who died in a car crash at the young age of sixteen, unloved and unhappy, and that no one would miss. He then let it go. The life of a mortal, even if it was his life as a mortal, was not important after all. He took a deep breath and let himself be reborn.      

_________________

Now, conscious of his own grandness, Lucifer could appreciate the lengths the man chosen to be his biological father has gone. Lucifer has chosen the Morningstar family uniquely for the joke. He would get an ID out of this ordeal of being born, after all, and it was quite useful to have some kind of name that was his. The long line of Satanists was quite a good opportunity. Better yet when the guy was so weak minded that he could whisper suggestions on the back of his mind. The man accepted the name ‘Lucifer’ promptly enough, and when the wife objected and said the boy would suffer, they easily agreed upon Sam. Lucifer could laugh at the coincidence if he believed in them. It was not like any other name would be better, after all.

And they actually took adequate care of Lucifer, all things considered. He had all the documents a person needed to exist and a good enough background to be believable when he succeeded in this being a human business. He would have an adequate scholar registry if needed and did not have a record of criminal activity. So far so good, no need to reinvent himself. He could just finish school and start anew, far away. It was a common enough behavior for humans to travel before college, he heard. Not that he intended to get any form of degree, of course, but the fewer questions asked, the fewer people he would have to ignore.

So far, he was quite pleased.

_________________

Lucifer looked at his human form at the mirror. He had repaired the small flaws he had found in his body. He had good genetics. His face was well formed; his teeth mostly straight and well cared for. His body, once used adequately, was slender and elegant and would grow in quite a striking figure in a few years. He let his hair be for now, aware that if he changed it too soon people would have questions. He straightened one crooked tooth, vanished some scars left by a severe case of acne in his thirteen’s and erased a mole in his ear he found unnecessary. He then carefully cut his hair, so short that the curls at the top of his head could not fully form. It was not exactly the kind of coif he would like to sport, but it showed a scar that he carefully crafted at the side of his head. It was designed both for his ‘I survived a car wreck’ story to be believable and for him to remember the short phase of his life in which he felt like a puny mortal – at least while he had this mortal body of his. He liked it for now. It gave him a fighter aura and he always could let his hair grow over the imperfection later.

Selecting the clothes to use on his first day at school (first day back? First day ever? Even having lived his life so far, it didn’t feel like of belonged to him anymore) was ridiculously easy, considering. He had very good clothes in somber colors, everything expensive and of good taste. It was just that he had not been confident enough to use some of it in the past decade. He chose a maybe too fitted black jeans that were once forgotten, a dark blue cashmere sweater that fitted a bit lose on his form and black all-stars. With one last wave of his hand, he adjusted his left eyebrow and left.

_________________

The thing about being a teenager in a car crash is that, when you stay in a coma for months, you lose the end of one semester and the beginning of the other. So you see, Sam Lucifer Morningstar did not have the grades to close the school year, simply because he had not attended a bunch of classes, had not finished any of the major projects and lost all the exams. In his defense, he was in a fucking coma, you see.

 “I’m sorry Ms. Morningstar. But we surely believe it would be best if or son could start the school year anew…”

Ms. Morningstar was livid, of course. Lucifer was not looking forward to staying one year more at school if he could avoid it.    

But then again, the thing about being a teenager in a car crash is that, when you are the Devil, you can easily enough make a deal.

“ Ms. Esperanza, I hope that you see that my accident could be characterized as negligence since the primary cause of it originated within the school grounds. But I’m willing to forget all about it if the teachers could agree on some sort of replacement project and exams I could do in order to replace the ones I’ve missed. If I achieve the necessary grades, we let this matter of attendance be justified by the medical recorded fact that I was physically unable to attend classes, and I graduate along the rest of the class. What do you say?”

“Mr. Morningstar… You see… I cannot pass you without the necessary grades and you’d have to complete a whole semester of assignments under two weeks…”

“Oh, it is no matter, Ms. Esperanza. I will gladly start the year anew if I don’t achieve the necessary marks.”

Lucifer’s biological mother was, of course, livid with everything still, but Lucifer smiled and told her to have a little faith in him. It never stopped being funny.

And that was how, one week later, Lucifer arrived on his first day back at school, carrying his pile of concluded assignments, all handwritten, as requested. Lucifer actually had some trouble replicating the scribble he was calling handwriting in this life – not because it was difficult, but because it was ugly. Lucifer despised creating ugly things.

At first, he didn’t pay attention to anyone while he crossed the halls since he didn’t think anyone was innately worthy of his attention. After some time, though, he noticed people were staring at his direction and whispering things. Then he noticed that once upon a time he would be the perfect target for an ‘accidental push’ that would ‘unfortunately’ make all of his papers fly over his head. No one came near him now. Good for them, in the end. Try to push a mountain and see who gets pushed at the end. See if the mountain even acknowledges you.

Amused, he looked around, and saw D. Douche at corner, staring at him, mouth open. Lucifer didn’t have the proper control of his retinas before, so his world was reduced to a blur that only heavy lenses could help to make any sense of. Now he knew what he was doing, he understood what he was looking at. So when he looked at D. Douche, he saw the boy perfectly, in all dimensions that he existed. He couldn’t be sure what D. Douche looked like before, but now he looked like a heavily traumatized boy who had witnessed a gruesome car accident, guilty besides his skin because he almost had someone killed, trying valiantly to hide behind a mask of righteousness and nonchalance. More than that, Lucifer could see many stains in the boy soul, that would only grow with time. The boy’s path was predictable enough and the destination was almost certain. In the end, they will meet again in Hell and D. Douche will probably not recognize Lucifer. Lucifer will recognize him by the smell alone.

With a small smirk on his face, Lucifer held the whole pile of assignments single-handed, so he could move his free hand up.

“Hey Douche!” He said, saluting the boy with two fingers near his temple.

Douche paled before pretending to be offended. The whole team started to rumble and pace. It was funny. Lucifer was instantly reminded of a litter of small kittens. One that was stupidly thinking of attacking a lion, but… Well. Humans were always stupid.

He kept going, nonetheless. Today’s activities were simple enough. He needed to deliver the assignments, attend Mr. Pirce’s class (who refused to let a recovering boy be excused of the last class of physical education of the year, that was priceless) and then meet with the rest of his class for final exams. So he went, door after door, delivering the offending pieces of paper.

The last teacher in his list was Mr. Amenadiel. He always liked Mr. Amenadiel. The dark skinned man was always gentle with him, patient and surprising insightful of extra reading material that would interest the boy. Of course, all Lucifer needed to stop liking him was seeing him now.

“It’s so beneath you, Brother. To spy on the development of a kid.”

“… Lucifer?” The angel asked.

“What are you doing here? You feathered-interfering-git!”

“I was just… You were so frail… So vulnerable… I thought…”

“Stop thinking, that is when you get everything wrong. I’ve completed your stupid assignment. Don’t you dare to reprove me to hold me here one more year! I swear to you there will be no bad marks to protect you from the fury of Hell if you do!”

“Brother…”

“Don’t you ‘brother’ me! Correct the damn thing as you’re supposed to do and get you feathered ass back from where you came from.”

And with that, Lucifer slammed the door on the face of his once favorite teacher. His once most loved brother.

_________________

Mr. Pierce’s class was… Oh, priceless indeed.

So, the burly guy had planned a dodge ball game as a way of ending the year. It was once the thing that Lucifer had hated most in the world, even more than climbing that damn rope. Now it was of very little consequence indeed.

Lucifer could not avert his eyes from Marcus Pierce.

Oh, how could he have forgotten?

“Mr. Morningstar! Why are you there frozen staring at me?” The blue-eyed worm asked.

One ball flew directly at Lucifer’s face and he caught it on reflex, without looking. He then noticed that he had no intent to play at all, and left the ball fall to the ground. Once eliminated, he passed near his teacher to reach the bench.

“Long time no see, Cain. The mark is still pretty and nice, I see.” Lucifer said, letting his eyes flash red.

Cain startled so bad that Lucifer realized Cain hadn’t known who Lucifer really was. Contrary to Amenadiel, Cain just chose a child to bully. What an asshole.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell but… Yeah. I see you’re not going anywhere. Ever.”

Lucifer stayed the rest of the game on the bench, now and then smirking at the horrified glances Pierce was directing at him. Such fun!

He was almost sad to be out of high school.  Almost.

_________________

He aced the exams, of course. Human knowledge was so small in front of everything he knew, everything he was.

He was just emptying his locker to leave that school for good when he felt someone approaching. Someone lighter. Someone warm.

Her laughter was something he could never forget.

“Hi, Sam,” Chloe said.

“Chloe Decker.” He said back, smiling.

“I’m just… I’m so glad you are all right.”

He believed her, of course. He could see the truth in her soul, even if he had not been informed that she visited him several times when he was comatose. He could also see the impressions left by her thoughts in the last year. How her interest in him had been real. She was genuinely a good soul who had seen more than the pathetic exterior of the boy he once was. She liked him, then. She found him funny and a good company and... Oh, she didn’t need help with that project at all – what an excuse to try to know the shy nerd better.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I could not help with the report, after all.”

“Report?” She asked. Then she seemed to remember and waved his apology away.

“So… You are fine, right? I mean… You look fine. I liked your hair, by the way. And are you wearing contact lenses? I’ve never noticed before how striking your eyes can be and have you ever been so tall?”

Lucifer smiled, for the first time in his existence as the Morning Star aware of how frustrating was it when you just started babbling, looking for the right thing to say.

“I do think I’m better than I’ve ever been, yes.”

“Good. That’s… Good.”

“Did you sleep with D. Douche after all?” He asked, out of nowhere, remembering the trauma that set his mind free.

She blushed deep red and refused to answer. If she slept with the moron, it was not important enough to leave any impressions on her soul, so Lucifer decided it didn’t matter.

“You’re indeed a beautiful creature, Chloe Decker.”

She looked up, slightly confused.

“ I’m thinking about taking a gap year. Travel around Europe. I could use some company if you’re interested?”

“Yeah, sure but… How would I…”

“All expenses covered, of course.”

“But… Sam…”

“Please, call me Lucifer.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> ... and the future was theirs to conquer.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
